


Chocolate and Chess

by hazelNuts



Series: 13 Days of Halloween [9]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AAAAH!, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Fluff, POV Laura Hollis, how do i tag this without giving away the plot?!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: Because of a snowstorm, Laura is stuck. She finds shelter at an inn where everyone seems a little out of place, the woman who runs the place and the girl she plays chess with in the evening. Except, according to Miss Belmonde, Laura is the only guest at the moment. So who is the girl?‘Mmpho?’ Laura pulls her scarf away from her mouth. ‘Hello?’‘Close the door, darling. You’re letting the cold in.’ A woman appears from the office behind the front desk.‘Sorry,’ Laura says, and pushes the door closed behind her. ‘I was wondering what a room would cost.’‘That would depend on how long you’re staying,’ the woman says. She looks elegant, almost stately, with shiny black hair and clothes that probably cost more than Laura’s tuition. Her voice is silky, seductive, but not like she’s trying to seduce you. No, she’s doing it because she knows the effect she has and thinks it’s fun. Not at all what Laura expected from a small inn high in the mountains.





	Chocolate and Chess

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I forgot any tags, please let me know in the comments.

‘Mmpho?’ Laura pulls her scarf away from her mouth. ‘Hello?’

‘Close the door, darling. You’re letting the cold in.’ A woman appears from the office behind the front desk.

‘Sorry,’ Laura says, and pushes the door closed behind her. ‘I was wondering what a room would cost.’

‘That would depend on how long you’re staying,’ the woman says. She looks elegant, almost stately, with shiny black hair and clothes that probably cost more than Laura’s tuition. Her voice is silky, seductive, but not like she’s trying to seduce you. No, she’s doing it because she knows the effect she has and thinks it’s fun. Not at all what Laura expected from a small inn high in the mountains.

‘Hopefully only one night. I’m on my way home, but the storm…’ Laura explains, gesturing to the window. The snow is falling so thick, it’s as if someone pulled a sheet over the window.

‘That isn’t dying down until tomorrow afternoon, at least. And it’ll be even longer before you can get on the road again. I’d say…’ the woman tilts her head in thought. ‘A week, before you’re back on the road.’ There is something close to pity in the woman’s eyes, though Laura doesn’t think it’s pity for her plans being foiled, more like pity for her optimism on the snowstorm.

‘Okay, how much would that cost me?’ Laura asks. She hadn’t planned on spending much money on her drive through the mountains, and doesn’t carry a lot of cash.

‘For you, two hundred.’

‘Two hundred? For food _and_ boarding?’

‘Mmhmm.’

‘For a week? Are you sure?’ Laura asks. It seems ridiculously low.

‘I can charge you more, if you want to.’

‘Oh no, two hundred is perfect,’ Laura quickly says. She pulls off her gloves with her teeth to dig her wallet out of her coat pocket. She counts the bills and lays them on the counter.

The woman snatches them up and stuffs them in a drawer. She then produces a large guestbook. It’s old, with a cracked leather cover. Laura leaves through it to find the next open space. It’s much fuller than she’d expected for a such a small, out of the way place. She signs her name and hands the book back.

‘Welcome to the Silas Inn, Laura. I’m Miss Belmonde,’ the woman smiles. She drops a key and Laura extends her hand just in time to catch it. ‘Here’s your key. It’s the first room on the right at the top of the stairs.’

‘Thank you,’ Laura says. She grips the key tightly, relief at not having to sleep in her car tonight flooding through her.

She braves the storm to grab her bags, then quickly goes to her room to change into dry and warm clothes. When she gets back downstairs, the front desk is once again deserted, and there are no sounds from anywhere in the inn. Looks like she’ll have to entertain herself then. Across from the front desk are two doorways, one is marked “kitchen”, the other “common room” in beautiful painted cursive. The common room looks cosy, a fire blazing in the hearth, a large couch and a couple of chairs, bookcases filled with books and board games against the walls. There’s also a television, an old big one that would’ve been new thirty years ago, but Laura doubts it’s working with the storm. If it works at all.

She goes for the nearest bookcase and grabs the first book that catches her eye, _The Haunted Hotel_ by Wilkie Collins. It’s not a big book, perfect for whiling away one or two dark evenings at this lonely inn. She’s doubts she’s the first guest to think this, because the front cover almost falls off when she opens it, so worn is the book. Picking the chair closest to the fire, Laura curls up.

The story is good, with lots of twists and turns, and she can’t help but sympathize with the main character. Chasing a pretty woman because he thinks she’s in trouble? Yeah, she can relate to that. The man has just checked into his hotel, when Miss Belmonde appears before Laura’s chair, blocking the warmth and light from the fire.

‘Dinner is done,’ she says, sounding a little bored. ‘I’m busy, so you’ll have to serve it yourself in the kitchen. And if you could please eat there as well, it would save me a lot of cleaning up.’

‘Of course,’ Laura nods. She briefly wonders what someone could possibly be busy with in this isolated place, then decides not to ask and just be grateful she doesn’t have to do her own cooking.

‘I’ll be in my office, in case something bursts into flames,’ Miss Belmonde says, and sweeps out of the room.

Laura stares after her, wondering if the woman is really that dramatic or if she’s doing it to mess with her.

Dinner turns out to be pea soup and thick slices of toast. It fills Laura up in no time. With her belly full and warm, she goes back to her chair in the common room to be pulled back into the story in no time.

‘Chocolate?’

Laura jumps up. Her book flies out of her hand and tumbles to the ground. She turns to the voice, her fists raised in protection.

There’s a girl sitting on the couch, about her own age, maybe a little older. Like Miss Belmonde she looks out of place here. With her jeans, plaid shirt, and motorcycle boots, she seems more like the type for a bar, not a quaint old inn. She’s pretty though, with wavy black hair and dark eyes, and Laura’s glad the girl decided to come to the quaint old inn and not the bar. There are two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies on the coffee table. The girl raises an eyebrow at Laura’s raised fist.

‘I… didn’t hear you come in,’ Laura says. She quickly picks up her book and holds it to her chest.

‘Must be quite the book you’re reading,’ the girl says.

‘Yeah. I think I nodded off a little, though. It’s been quite the day.’

‘Hmm. So do you want any?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Hot chocolate.’ The girl points at the mugs on the table.

‘Oh, yes. Thank you,’ Laura sits down on the couch next to the girl. She grabs one of the mugs, wrapping hands around the warm ceramic. She closes her eyes and inhales the scent of cocoa and whipped cream.

‘So, what are your plans for the night?’ the girl asks.

‘I was thinking of going on a hike,’ Laura quips.

The girl blinks in surprise, then rolls her eyes. ‘Well, the riveting nightlife in these part is not something you want to miss out on.’

‘And what exactly is it that the nightlife has to offer?’

The girl moves off the couch and walks to the bookcase with games and puzzles.

‘We have the classics: checkers, chess, backgammon, cards, Scrabble. We also have Master Mind, Monopoly, Clue, Jenga, Yahtzee, and Labyrinth. If you prefer puzzles, we have several Van Goghs, a Rembrandt, a dolphin, and a litter of kittens. I can’t vouch for any of the puzzles being complete, though.’

‘Let’s start with chess,’ Laura suggests.

Chess, as it turns out, is not the right game to start with. The girl, whose name turns out to be Carmilla, thinks fast, strategically, and is ruthless. Their first game ends after only five minutes. After eliciting a promise from Carmilla that she’ll take it easy on her, Laura suggests they do two out of three. The winner chooses their next game.

They go through almost all of the games in this manner, skipping backgammon because neither of them is sure how it works, and skipping Yahtzee because neither of them likes it. As they play, they talk. At first it’s mostly Laura who talks, prompted by the occasional comment or question from Carmilla, but eventually Carmilla starts talking as well. Laura finds out quite a lot about her. She doesn’t get along well with her mother. She’s a philosophy major at the same university that Laura attends. When Carmilla quirks her lips in a half-smile, it’s the same as a full-on grin from anyone else. And when she says Laura’s name, it’s a caress on Laura’s skin.

Laura starts yawning halfway through their second round of Jenga, and Carmilla shoos her off to her room.

‘Hey, you didn’t drink your chocolate,’ Laura notices as she gets up. ‘It must be cold by now.’

‘I’ll heat it up,’ Carmilla shrugs.

‘Good night,’ Laura says.

‘Good night, cupcake.’

~

When Laura goes down for breakfast the next morning, there’s a note next to the cereal that tells her she’ll have to eat breakfast alone, since Miss Belmonde is busy making sure they don’t freeze to death. She lingers in the kitchen, eating and cleaning up as slow as she can, hoping Carmilla will walk in. She wants to go look for the girl, but can’t decide if that would seem cute or desperate. After going back to her room and taking a little more care with her clothes and hair than a mountain inn warrants, she decides to go to the common room again. She’ll be easy to find there, and can keep herself busy in the meantime.

Around lunch time, the front door opens. The blast of cold air makes the fire in the hearth dance. Laura peeks around the back of the chair to see Miss Belmonde stomping the snow off her boots.

‘How does pea soup for lunch sound?’ Miss Belmonde asks when she catches Laura looking at her.

‘Sounds great. I can start heating it up while you change,’ Laura suggests.

‘You’re quite sweet,’ Miss Belmonde states, then disappears into her own rooms.

Laura heats up the soup and toasts some bread. She’s just finished setting the table, when Miss Belmonde walks in.

‘Who’s the third plate for?’ Miss Belmonde asks as she sits down.

‘Your other guest? I met her last night,’ Laura says.

Miss Belmonde’s expression goes thoughtful. ‘You mean Carmilla?’

‘Yes,’ Laura nods. ‘Where is she? I haven’t seen her all day.’

‘Darling, Carmilla isn’t a guest, and you won’t see her during the day. She only haunts these halls at night,’ Miss Belmonde sighs, waving her hand with a dramatic flourish.

‘She’s a ghost?’

‘Quite a tragic story, really.’

Laura eagerly leans forward.

‘Years ago, when Carmilla was staying here, there was a man. He took quite a liking to her. Carmilla, of course, told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t her type, since he was, well, since he was a _he_. The man didn’t want to hear it. So, to escape him, Carmilla walked right out into a snow storm.’

‘Oh my god. That’s terrible.’ Laura claps a hand over her mouth.

‘Yes. It was,’ Miss Belmonde nods seriously.

Laura tries to push the story out of her mind by keeping busy, working on a paper, reading, trying to figure out if the television works, but it’s no use. The image of Carmilla disappearing into a whirlwind of snow keeps popping into her head. It can’t be true, can it? Ghosts don’t exist. And even if they did, why would they play chess with her and make her hot cocoa?

After dinner, Laura settles herself in the common room again, this time on the couch. She grabs a random book and opens it, more to keep herself from fidgeting than because she wants to read.

‘I brought chocolate again,’ Carmilla says when she steps into the room a little while later, holding up two mugs.

‘Thank you.’

‘Are you okay, Laura?’

Laura quickly puts a smile on her face. ‘I think being inside all day is getting to me a little. I’m not used to it.’

‘Well, I’m sure losing another couple games of chess will distract you,’ Carmilla teases.

‘I hope so.’

~

The next day is more of the same, breakfast alone, lunch with Miss Belmonde, dinner alone, and between meals Laura keeps herself busy. Keeping busy helps to pass the time, but it doesn’t help her take her mind off Carmilla. Yesterday, she’d tried to tell herself that the story couldn’t be true, except… Carmilla always appears out of nowhere, her movements so quiet the floorboards don’t make a peep, and Laura has never actually seen her eat or drink anything. By the time she goes to bed, Carmilla’s cocoa was once again undrunk and cold, and half the cookies were still on the plate.

‘Okay, what is it?’ Carmilla asks after Laura loses her second game of checkers in a spectacular way.

‘Nothing.’

‘You’re killing me, Hollis,’ Carmilla sighs, pulling a hand through her hair. ‘Just tell me what it is, and I’ll… try to make you feel better.’

‘Wow, don’t sound so excited about it,’ Laura snorts.

Carmilla raises an eyebrow, and her lips tick up in that beautiful half-smile.

‘Miss Belmonde told me your story,’ Laura says softly. She picks up a checkers piece and tries to spin it on the board like a coin. It stops, standing on its side, after only a couple spins.

‘Of course Mattie is making you call her Miss Belmonde,’ Carmilla says, rolling her eyes. ‘And what story did she tell you?’

‘About how you… About how you _died_ ,’ Laura says quickly. When she sees Carmilla’s confused look, she says, ‘Oh god, you don’t know you’re dead?’

‘No. I think I would’ve noticed that,’ Carmilla retorts.

‘Not all spirits know that they are spirits. And it’s okay to be in denial, or to only just start to come to terms with it, but it’s important to move on. To find peace,’ Laura says.

Carmilla tilts her head back, takes a deep breath, and shouts, ‘Mattie!’

The inn goes almost eerily quiet until the rhythmic thuds of heels on wood break it, announcing Miss Belmonde’s approach. When she steps into the common room, Laura is once again struck by how out of place she looks. Even Carmilla, in her ripped jeans and leather vest looks more at home here.

‘What did you tell Laura?’

‘I told her the story of when little Vordie came here and became absolutely smitten with you.’

‘She said you walked out into a snow storm,’ Laura adds.

‘I went to the shed to get a hammer and nails to lock the brat into his room until he learned some manners,’ Carmilla says. ‘I did not die some tragic death, like a heroin from an 18th century Gothic novel.’

‘But I asked her if you were a ghost,’ Laura says. She turns to look accusingly at Miss Belmonde. ‘And I used the word ghost.’

‘I never said she was one,’ Miss Belmonde grins.

‘You heavily implied it!’

‘I can’t help the things you assume, darling. Now, I’m actually really busy, so I’ll be going again.’

Laura watches Miss Belmonde go, then turns back to Carmilla. She smiles apologetically. ‘Haha. So, this is awkward. You know, the whole assuming you’re a ghost thing.’ She clears her throat. ‘Sorry about that.’

Carmilla huffs out a laugh, smiling and shaking her head. ‘Trust me, of all the pranks my sister could’ve pulled, this is the most harmless. I think she likes you.’

‘Do I need her to like me?’ Laura asks, slipping her hand over the board towards Carmilla’s. Carmilla’s fingers are soft and warm between hers. Definitely not a ghost.

‘Not at all.’

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


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